Chicken or the Egg
by monkeymouse
Summary: Another slashy version of How Ginny Met Cho--involving a rubber chicken...


The Chicken or the Egg  
  
by Monkeymouse  
  
Rated: PG-13 (Cho/Ginny slash)  
  
It started when second-year Ginny Weasley looked around the breakfast table one Saturday morning, and said, "Pass the eggs, please."  
  
Immediately eggs started dropping on her out of the sky; a full dozen before anyone could try to find out where they were coming from. They stopped at twelve, as a loud and angry voice rang through the hall: "And if you ever try anything like that again…"  
  
Ginny turned toward the voice, completely baffled as to who would do a thing like this. It was the voice of Cho Chang, a fourth-year in Ravenclaw House, who was angrily advancing on the table—until she saw Ginny. The anger was replaced in an instant by fear—a full and solid dread. "No," Cho gasped; "Oh no…"  
  
Before she could say anything else, Ginny got up and ran from the room.  
  
"Wait!" Cho started to run after Ginny, but was stopped by the firm hand of Minerva McGonagall.  
  
"I expect a very good explanation," the Assistant Headmistress said in a cold and angry voice.  
  
"I'm sorry, Professor, that isn't what was …"  
  
"I said I wanted an explanation, not an apology!"  
  
"Well, we play Gryffindor in just a few hours…"  
  
"I fail to see what the sports schedule has to do with this."  
  
"But yesterday I saw the Weasley twins sneaking around my broom in the shed and now LOOK!" Almost in tears, Cho reached into her robe and pulled out a rubber chicken. "Look at my broom!"  
  
Most of the students who were there thought this the Weasleys' funniest practical joke yet. Cho's cheeks burned red as they laughed at her predicament.  
  
McGonagall waved them to silence. She studied the rubber chicken. "Yes, this is one of theirs, all right." She waved her wand over the chicken, and it turned immediately back into Cho's Comet 260. "I think I understand, Miss Chang. The twins sabotaged your broom on game day, so you started pitching raw eggs at the first head of red hair you saw."  
  
"I really thought it was one of the twins…"  
  
"I don't care if you thought it was the Dark Lord! Pelting a fellow student with foodstuffs is not an acceptable way to settle an argument. You're in Ravenclaw, Miss Chang, and you're supposed to be smart enough to know better than that. I want you to play your match, and report to me immediately when you're done. You're a Seeker, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes, Professor."  
  
"Then you'd better hope you find the Snitch early, because I'm taking forty points from Ravenclaw for your terrible display of bad judgment. I'll see you after the match."  
  
McGonagall spun on her heel and walked back to the head table. Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, was on his way over to Cho. This was a terrible way to start a Quidditch match.  
  
* *  
  
After the game, Cho reported to Professor McGonagall's office, where she found Professor Flitwick waiting. Of course he would be there; he was head of Ravenclaw House. The trouble was that he was such a sweet tempered little man (literally little–he barely topped three feet) that he rarely meted out detentions, especially to his favorites.  
  
McGonagall knew this, and had instructed Flitwick to take Cho to Madam Pince, the librarian, to let her decide on the detention. As the two walked toward the castle's library, Cho's cheeks still blazed red with embarrassment.  
  
Flitwick sensed this. "It's rather a shame that you have to do this. Of course, you dropped the eggs on Miss Weasley and all, but I'm sure you're quite contrite about that now. Er, you are, aren't you?"  
  
"Professor," Cho sighed, "I have never felt so ashamed of anything I've ever done."  
  
"Because you hit the wrong Weasley?"  
  
"It's not like that. I shouldn't have pelted anyone with eggs in the first place; I understand that. I just panicked when they turned my broom into a chicken."  
  
Professor Flitwick chuckled at that one, in spite of Cho walking right beside him. He recovered and looked at Cho. "Well, all's well that ends well, as they say. That was a well-played game, by the way. Still, the only punishment I would assign you–after whatever Madam Pince says, of course–would be to find the girl and apologize for what you did. Her name is Ginny, I believe; Ginny Weasley. Very unlike her brothers."  
  
That last comment didn't make Cho feel any better. The Gryffindor Beaters–Fred and George Weasley–had a reputation almost as big as the castle for rampant practical joking. Davies had warned Cho that the twins were simply part of a long line of Weasleys who were unorthodox even for wizards. Charlie Weasley had played Seeker for Gryffindor and now was off chasing dragons. Bill worked for the goblins at Gringotts Bank. Ron had flown an enchanted Ford Anglia to Hogwarts just the year before. And their father, who worked for the Ministry, collected electrical plugs. Whenever the Ravenclaw girls got together for boy talk, the word "immature" always seemed to follow the name "Weasley". It simply hadn't occurred to Cho that the Weasleys' sister wouldn't share at least some of their personalities.  
  
She thought through all of this again and again as she carried out her punishment: dusting the shelves in the Magic of the Americas section and reshelving the books alphabetically by author. The shelves were in total disarray, and it was suppertime when Cho finished. At that point, all she wanted to do was change clothes, shower and go to bed. She wasn't even hungry anymore.  
  
But, just as she left the library, she saw Ginny Weasley waiting for her in the hall. Years of childhood training in a Chinese household took over; reflexively Cho bowed at the waist. "I'm so sorry about what I did to you this morning; please forgive me."  
  
Around the Weasley household, as you can imagine, the words "I'm sorry" were tossed around rather casually. The twins in particular often said them but seldom meant them. Ginny had been prepared for some sort of angry backlash on Cho's part, but the sincere apology threw her off-balance. "No, I mean, just forget about it."  
  
"I can't forget; I'm so ashamed of attacking you like that. Is there some way I can make it up to you?"  
  
Ginny, who after all was still a Weasley, decided that she had an advantage here over an upperclassman and decided to press it. The trouble was, she didn't know exactly what to ask for; everything that came to mind seemed to be out-of-bounds, and might get them both in trouble.  
  
Ginny thought about what had happened, the way her breakfast had been disrupted. She should have Cho serve her breakfast tomorrow–but in the Great Hall? Did Cho really deserve that kind of public humiliation–and did Ginny feel up to meting it out?  
  
Then what about breakfast in bed? Also a problem. Cho would have to be told the password to get into Gryffindor, and if she were caught, she might tell that Ginny told her the password, which would probably turn the whole House against her. What was there to do? How to make her pay for pelting her with eggs, ruining Ginny's hair…  
  
That's it: humiliating yet private and just decadent enough. "You want to make it up to me? Then give me a shampoo."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I had to scrub all the eggs and eggshell out of my hair this morning, and tonight I want a real shampoo. I want to feel pampered; I want to feel…" She searched for the right word. "Luxurious."  
  
Cho kept a perfectly straight face while she nodded her head. "Where are we supposed to do this? I can't let you into Ravenclaw, and you probably don't want me in Gryffindor."  
  
"I've already thought about that. The Prefects have their own bathroom. It's the best place in the whole castle. Meet me there at midnight tonight." Cho nodded. "Shall I draw you a map?"  
  
"No need; I already know where it is, and the password. Penny Clearwater is an old friend of mine, and told me all about it when she was made Prefect for Ravenclaw. How do you know about it, by the way?"  
  
"My brother Percy; he's Prefect for Gryffindor, and he never could keep a secret." Ginny giggled as she turned to go, thinking about how she caught both Penelope Clearwater and her brother Percy kissing last year. "So you'll be there at midnight?"  
  
"I promise," Cho said, still keeping an emotionless mask on her face.  
  
Ginny turned to go to supper, and missed seeing a small smile play across Cho Chang's mouth.  
  
* *  
  
Cho arrived, said the secret password "emollient", and slipped into the Prefects Bathroom at five minutes to midnight. Ginny, however, was already there, in a tub filled with aromatic green bubbles.  
  
Cho waved to the mermaid in the painting, who waved back.  
  
"Oh, good; you're early," Ginny said, not wanting to have to compete with a painting for attention. "Well, let's get on with it."  
  
"Of course," Cho smiled, as she opened the clasp at the neck of her robes and let them fall to the floor. She was naked under her robes.  
  
Ginny gasped out loud and couldn't help but stare at Cho. She didn't know what to expect, but she wasn't ready for what she saw–or the way it made her feel.  
  
It was no surprise that Cho's breasts were slightly larger than Ginny's own, which at age 12 were still rather small. But, while Ginny's nipples were ringed with wide dark areolae, Cho seemed to have none at all; just bright red nipples that Ginny somehow knew were always hard and rubbery. Ginny's bush was, even at age 12, as full and thick as her mother's. Cho's mound, however, bore merely a thin line of hair running from the end of her slit toward her navel.  
  
Ginny literally was speechless for about two minutes; during that time, Cho simply stood naked before the second-year witch. Finally, Ginny collected herself enough to say, "You didn't wear anything else?"  
  
Ginny had drifted over to the edge of the swimming-pool-sized sunken tub. Cho walked over to her. "I'm ashamed of the bad things I've occasionally done, like pelting you with eggs. But I'm never ashamed of who I am." So saying, she squatted down, resting on the balls of her feet, her knees widespread and her sex on full display less than ten inches from Ginny Weasley's nose. "So, shall I take care of you now?"  
  
Ginny was almost beyond words. Until she went away to Hogwarts, she'd only seen her mother naked on a not-too-frequent basis, and she was still very self-conscious about her own body. Yet here this older girl wore her dignity like a robe, and it served to make her beautiful. This set off another set of warning bells in Ginny's head–she'd heard girls talk, after all, about those who found other girls "beautiful". But Ginny couldn't shut out her feelings entirely. All she could do was nod.  
  
Cho slipped into the water with Ginny, and worked one of the dozens of taps around the rim of the tub. This tap, with a star sapphire set in the middle of it, released a thick, slow moving shampoo into Cho's hand–and even the slow and sensuous flow of the shampoo tugged at Ginny's mind, reminding her of something she didn't even know about yet. Ginny, her mouth too dry to speak, nodded and closed her eyes.  
  
The scent of the shampoo attacked her next: a blend of soap and perfume and something else underneath. Something like mushrooms, redolent of soil and leaves and fertility… She had no idea where these sights and sounds and scents were taking her, but Ginny was glad to go along for the ride.  
  
They were at the shallow end of the tub, where they could stand on the bottom without treading water. Cho stood behind Ginny as she worked the shampoo into Ginny's hair, bringing it to a lather and massaging Ginny's scalp. This was exactly what Ginny wanted; this was luxury, of a kind the youngest child in a large, perpetually Galleon-strapped family could only dream about. So why did she feel like crying? Why did she hang onto her tears, like a miserly goblin hoarding his gold, until Cho began to rinse the lather from her hair, pouring slow, unhurried handsful of water onto Ginny's head–why only then did she let her tears sneak out with the rinsewater?  
  
Cho noticed, of course, but didn't want to say anything to Ginny just yet; whatever was in Ginny's system had to come out first. By the end of the rinse, Ginny was crying openly. Cho still said nothing, but kept one hand on Ginny's shoulder. Finally, Ginny tried half-heartedly to move out from under Cho's hand.  
  
"What's wrong, Ginny?"  
  
"I … I am," Ginny said, close to bursting into sobs. "You've been so nice to me, and I've treated you like a slave. I'm sorry, Cho; you didn't have to do this."  
  
"You're right about one thing, Ginny," Cho said, her voice soft; "I didn't have to do any of this. I wanted to." She punctuated that sentence by kissing Ginny on the neck.  
  
The mermaid in the painting perked up, brushing the flowing golden hair from in front of her face and giving her own nipples a quick squeeze. Things were about to get much more interesting…  
  
Three hours later, they were putting their robes back on to return to their respective Houses.  
  
"Too bad we have to go in different directions," Cho said. "I'd love to walk you back to Gryffindor, but I'm not supposed to know where it is. Besides, we're better off if Filch only catches one of us." Ginny was standing there, facing away from Cho, pulling on her robes. "Ginny, do you feel all right?"  
  
Ginny suddenly spun around, taking Cho's head in her hands and kissing Cho on the mouth–a kiss that lasted the better part of a minute. When they finally broke contact, Ginny shrugged the robes off of herself, picked them up, then briskly walked to the door of the Prefects Bathroom. With her only clothes draped over her arm, she turned again to Cho.  
  
"I feel … luxurious!"  
  
With that, she opened the door and walked through the corridors toward Gryffindor.  
  
10 May 2002 


End file.
